


Painted and Pretty

by mickeym



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Feminization, First Time, M/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-29
Updated: 2008-10-29
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jensen has a secret.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painted and Pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cormallen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/gifts).



> For cormallen, on the occasion of her birthday (and a day late, meep!) :) Many thanks to azephirin for the beta; you are awesome. Alex, I hope you like your story, honey. *hugs*

No one should've seen this; seen _him_ like this…but, then, Jared's had a way since the first day they met, of seeing bits of Jensen no one else should or has.

The bathroom mirror shows him he's pretty, painted up and dressed up, and he likes the way the lace and silk feel against his skin. Likes the scrape and chafe when he moves.

He likes the pressure of the corset, the way it binds him, pushing in, pushing out, making him different than he usually is.

Making him pretty.

Make-up darkens his eyes: liner and mascara, then blush brushed over carefully close-shaved jaw and cheeks. Lipstick in dark red, making his lips look glossy and lush, and plumper than usual.

Start-stop, freeze-frame of Jared calling his name, Jared who's supposed to be going out with some friends visiting from the States. Jared who's supposed to be _gone_ , but is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, staring, mouth open with silent questions. 

No way this can end well. He should've known better. Been more careful.

_Wish you'd told me, Jen._ Jared's voice so low, so quiet, so _not_ Jared. And his eyes—big, wide, seeing but not sure what he's seeing. _Do you—what—what is this?_

Up, down, up, down. Crawling all over Jensen's reflection, wrapping him in heat and want Jensen's never seen in Jared's eyes before. Never directed _at him_ before.

Heat of a different sort spreading through him, burning his cheeks when Jared's eyes linger on the corset, cinching his waist into something smaller, more delicate. Heat spiking when Jared steps closer, hands coming up to touch, burning through the silky-satin fabric. Trying to span his waist. 

Soft words right against his ear, Jared's eyes holding his in the mirror. _Can it go tighter?_

Jensen murmuring he doesn't know. Maybe, but not by himself.

_Want me to help you? Wanna see it tighter. See you like that._ Jared's close, so close to him, breath hot and moist against Jensen's neck, like the words are settling in beneath his skin. _So pretty,_ he whispers, the words pressing in, hushed kisses to his flesh.

Jensen catches Jared's gaze in the mirror, stares at the heat reflected there, and nods, heart pounding so hard he's choking on it. "Please," he manages, the word thick and heavy on his tongue.

It hurts, hurts a lot, his body shifting and pinching and moving as Jared jerks and pulls on the strings. Old-fashioned corset, with slender strips of metal beneath the sleek fabric. It bites into Jensen's skin, teases his hips out and his waist in, molding him into something – some _one_ \-- else. 

Jared doesn't stop until he can fit his hands around Jensen's waist.

Span it.

Jensen's light-headed at the thought; trying to look at himself makes that feeling increase. It's not him; it can't be. He doesn't recognize this person, but he likes how it looks. How it feels. Tight. Protective. 

"You're gorgeous," Jared says softly, words tickling Jensen's ear. "Like it. A lot." Jensen watches him in the mirror, sliding those big, huge _so huge, so hot, devouring Jensen_ hands up and down the sleekness of the corset. He feels each pass of Jared's fingers, skin beneath so sensitized now.

Jared rubs his fingertips over Jensen's nipples, just peeking out over the top of the corset. They tighten into hard little nubs and Jared plucks at them, drags his fingernails over them, twists and pulls until Jensen's leaning back against him groaning, breath coming in quick, sharp gasps.

"Pretty girly-boy likes having his tits played with, huh?" Jared hisses the words, bites them into Jensen's throat and grins when Jensen jerks and moans with each touch. "Are you wet for me, Jen? Can I touch your panties, feel if you're wet?"

"Y-yes," is all Jensen can manage, eyes fluttering shut when Jared strokes his hands downward, big and hot, covering so much so quickly, and oh yeah. Jensen's wet, cockhead smeared with moisture, dampening his panties.

He's so hard it's a physical ache, cock pressing against fabric, pushing it outward obscenely. 

"Always wanted to touch you, y'know." Jared's voice wraps around Jensen, sliding hot and slick over bare skin. "I lay in my bed at night and jerk off thinking 'bout you on your knees, or spread out on my bed while I fuck you." His fingers do a slow, seductive dance over Jensen's dick, stroking him through the panties until the scratch of the lace is just this side of too much.

"Jared," Jensen whispers, voice gone hoarse and rough with need. The thought of Jared fucking him makes his entire body throb. He swallows, draws in a shallow breath, shuddering when the corset squeezes against him, around him.

"Shh." Jared lingers, fingers brushing over the tip of Jensen's dick, watching himself in the mirror, touching Jensen. It's all Jensen can do to keep his knees from buckling when those warm fingers slide down into his panties, curving and curling around the length of his erection. "Bare? Jesus, Jen--" 

The words are barely a murmur, a hiss of breath, and then Jared's turning Jensen so he's leaning against the bathroom counter, and Jared's sliding to his knees, hands skimming downward, tugging on the panties. Teasing over the lace edges of Jensen's stockings. 

"Bare all the fucking way _down_." Jared growls, the sound echoing inside Jensen, making him feel electrified. 

He strokes up and down Jensen's legs, and God, Jensen knows shaving makes his skin more sensitive; he does it so he can _feel_ the way the silk of the stockings whispers over his skin, each touch like a kiss. A caress. But he's never had anyone else touch him like this, and he's on fire from it, blood boiling through him from the gentle, barely-there brush of Jared's fingers teasing him.

Jared nuzzles into Jensen; presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to his hipbones, to the naked, tender skin of his inner thighs. Licks at Jensen's dick like it's a piece of candy, and Jensen's pretty sure he's going to pass out from lack of oxygen, since he'd be holding his breath right now anyway, never mind the corset constricting him. 

The breathlessness increases when Jared sucks him in, down, no gag reflex to slow things up. Just slick heat taking him in, holding him there, Jared's hands pressing Jensen back against the counter when he would flex his hips; when he would thrust and fuck forward, wanting to bury himself in Jared's throat.

It's messy and so good, spit and pre-come soaking his panties even more -- _are you wet for me, Jen?_ \-- and Jared pushes them down, away, baring Jensen's cock completely. The sounds get to Jensen, slurping and swallowing, and he closes his eyes and rocks forward the tiny bit Jared allows, whimpers and moans working their way up and out of him. He comes with a low groan, fingers twining into Jared's hair, holding him close while he shudders through each spasm, Jared's throat tightening and relaxing as he swallows around Jensen.

Jensen's still trying to catch his breath when Jared surges to his feet, pushing Jensen flush against the counter. His lips are shiny-slick with Jensen's come, and his kisses taste salty-bitter like Jensen, tongue stroking around inside Jensen's mouth, spreading the flavor.

"Want to lay you out, lick you from head to toe," Jared mutters, words getting lost in the kiss, disappearing between tongues curling and teasing and teeth nipping and tugging. He circles Jensen's waist again, presses on the thin strips of metal within the corset. "Gonna bruise from this?"

"I don't know," Jensen starts, groaning when Jared presses harder. The fabric, the metal, bites into him; sharp little spikes of pain that mix and mingle and burn into pleasure. Bruises would hurt, too, but feel good. "Hope so. Kind of want to." 

"I kind of want it, too." Jared shoves, lifts, settles Jensen on the counter, and it's fucking _hot_ that Jared can do that, manhandle Jensen around like he's small. Weightless. "I want to put bruises on you and then kiss 'em. Touch 'em." He rocks into Jensen's thigh, erection hard and hot even through his jeans. 

Jensen can't breathe, he's going to suffocate, asphyxiate, and he doesn't care. Just wants to feel Jared against him, in him, over him, around him. Wants to be surrounded by Jared.

"Fuck me," he says softly, aching and breathless. "Please." 

"Leave this on?" Jared runs his fingers back up Jensen's chest, trailing over the satin, to tweak Jensen's nipples again. Jensen shivers and nods.

The stumbled steps from Jensen's bathroom to Jared's bedroom seems like an eternity, but Jared's bed is huge, with soft flannel sheets that caress Jensen's skin. He kneels there on the bed while Jared strips off his clothes, wonders if Jared's friends are missing him and decides he doesn't care. Wonders if he'll wake up in the morning and this will all have just been a dream, and decides he doesn't care about that, either. 

Jensen straddles Jared's legs, silk stockings rubbing between them, leans in to kiss him. Not so bitter now, the taste of come fading, replaced by the warmth of Jared's mouth. He groans into the kiss when slick fingers tease over his hole, pressing against the muscle, then inside. Jared swallows the groans, then gives them back, biting words into Jensen's lips, his throat, along his jaw.

"So hot and tight, God, Jen, want to feel you, be in you—"

Hunger wells up inside him, spills out of Jensen in a stream of whimpers and growls, hoarse words he barely recognizes, pleas and pleading. 

"Do it. Do it do it do it…."

He waits until Jared has the condom on; until he hears the wet sound of Jared slicking lube over his dick. Jensen's heart pounds in double time, need coiling hot and potent inside him. He shifts and settles over Jared, slides downward slowly, hissing against the burn of penetration.

"Christ," Jared whispers, and he sounds fucking _broken_. Jensen nods; can't do much else because he can't breathe, can't get enough air to make any noise at all. Can't breathe, or talk, or anything; all he can do is feel. Feel himself stretched wide, throbbing tightly around Jared. Feel Jared pulsing inside him, dick thick and hard, and so hot, so good.

"C'mon, fuck me," Jensen says, and he sounds pretty broken, too. He shifts, flexes his muscles, and Jared shudders beneath him, hands coming up to hold on to Jensen. "Give it to me."

"Bossy," Jared mutters, but he bucks upward, fucks into Jensen hard and fast, fingers clutching at Jensen's hips. Grounding him. "Fucking feel so good, Jen—"

Each word echoes through Jensen; throbs along with his body, along with Jared's body. Then there's no thinking, no wondering, nothing but sensation: hot, bright, electric, all streaking through Jensen fast and furious. Jared's really good at fucking, hips swiveling and moving, blinding Jensen to everything but the sting-burn of pleasure.

His fingernails – short, but not short enough – cut little half-moons into Jared's arms; Jared's scrape and scratch against Jensen's corset as he thrusts up, up, up and holds, eyes squinched shut as he comes. Jensen feels the pulses; wishes he could feel the thick, wet heat. Shudders when Jared rubs a thumb over his lower lip and rasps, "Wanna come on your face next time. Paint you up real pretty, my spunk on your lips, your cheeks."

Jensen shakes through his own orgasm, smaller than the first one, but still enough to take away what little breath he has.

He collapses onto Jared with a muffled groan; tries to catch his breath but can't. "Jay—gotta, I can't—"

It's jumbled and inarticulate, but Jared _gets_ it; Jensen feels his fingers at the back, pulling on the laces until the corset's loose enough around him for Jensen to draw a full breath in. First full breath in what feels like forever.

"Wow," he manages, voice hoarse, sounding fucked-out.

"Yeah." Jared rolls them, hand stroking idly over the satin hanging loosely on Jensen, now. He rubs up, thumbs over Jensen's nipple. "You—do this a lot? Is it a thing, a—a, fetish thing?"

Jensen blushes; he feels the heat crawl up his face, spread down his neck to his chest. "Sometimes." He swallows, looks at Jared. "Not often. It's—I like—" There's no way he can say it; his throat closes up over the words.

"Dude, s'okay." Jared bumps his forehead against Jensen. "It's not like I'm gonna be all 'ugh, gross' – 'cos I remember kind of, um. Pouncing. On you."

"Yeah." Jensen tries a smile, but it's been a rollercoaster night; he's starting to fade, and fast. "I need to, um. Put this stuff up." And he and Jared need to talk, but they should probably be more awake and less fucked-out when they do. 

Jared gives Jensen a look he can't quite decipher. "You coming back?"

"You want me to?"

"Uh, _duh_ ," Jared says. Jensen hears the 'dumbass' he doesn't actually say, and it's not a declaration of love or anything, but it's good, it's enough. "Hurry up," Jared adds, trailing one finger down Jensen's side. He presses in on still-sensitive skin, rubs at the red marks creasing Jensen's skin and smiles at Jensen's indrawn breath. "Mine," he whispers, leaning in to kiss the mark.

Jensen can't stop the shiver rippling through him, and for now, that's enough, too.

~fin~


End file.
